


In which a witch is far from pleased and a wizard behaves dramatically

by hydesboy



Category: Howl Series - Diana Wynne Jones, Howl's Moving Castle - All Media Types
Genre: Sophie has not recovered from twinkle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-26 01:26:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30098157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hydesboy/pseuds/hydesboy
Summary: Sophie is irritated, Howl is dreadful at dealing with it and so slithers offSophie is allowed to have a little unhinged anger, as a treatPost- House of Many Ways
Relationships: Sophie Hatter/Howl Pendragon
Kudos: 9





	In which a witch is far from pleased and a wizard behaves dramatically

The misting of light rain sparkled in the air, setting the world in a sparkling haze that was the sort of magic that could only come from nature. It seemed something taken directly out of a painting somewhere, with all its picturesque glory, the brightness contrasting wonderfully with the looming figure of a pitch black castle, all turrets and balconies. If one were to gaze out of any one of the numerous windows within the strange castle, however, this effect would only be visible in half, if that. See, it was only raining Market Chipping side, which was where the castle presently resided, scuttling about as it did on its oddly spider-like legs.

The Wizard Howl’s mood was high and especially jovial, very much enjoying the feeling of stretching with limbs that were the right length again. It was all very fun being in disguise, of course, but it was a pain on the joints. He had made a joke or two about him feeling age catch up on him, but this was only met with an irritable huff from his wife when he did. He could suppose that was fair, given that she had far more experience with age than he did, but he didn’t think long enough about the matter to ponder alternatives. 

With a hum fresh upon his upward curled lips, he decided to set about the task of locating the resident witch, feeling wonderfully refreshed following an impractically timed nap, which had started off as him going over an old text he was asked to examine, and so was feeling kind enough to share his good mood. She had not gone out, not yet at least, if the fire demon Calcifer was to believed, and so he meandered about the castle. Despite appearances, there really was not all that much castle to meander about, a few rooms, a makeshift garden and a scattering of balconies that had no real rhythm nor reason. He did not stumble upon Michael at all in his meandering, though it was perfectly safe, and also correct, to assume that the teenager had simply left during the time of his nap with better things to do than keep an eye on a toddler and the toddler’s parents. 

As it so often was, Sophie was in the last place he had thought to look. Of course, he wouldn’t have any reason to keep looking for her if he found her, so it would be silly if he decided to keep looking for her. Howl had seen her, but it seemed that she had not noticed him. At that particular moment she had perched herself on a balcony, caught up in watching the world roll past them, which was perfectly understandable as the rain against the final moments of the sunset looked lovely, a distracted look on her face that made it almost too easy to sneak up on her there.

“Thophie?” asked he, hugging her waist, trying to make it seem as if he was shorter than he really was, softening his voice a little so that he sounded younger too, “Did you mith me?” 

This was met by Sophie swatting him several times, even going so low as to strike a coward’s blow or two on his undefended head. She hadn’t even determined that the wizard had not taken the form of Twinkle again before she started swinging, which was admittedly quite understandable, even if the man being swatted at did not think this was the case. 

“You’re a wicked, wicked man, Howl Pendragon!” exclaimed she, her voice making it all too clear that she meant each and every word of it too. 

“But you love me still!” he returned in a teasing sort of way, springing himself up and out of harms way, his eyes twinkling mischievously. His eyes had a lot of twinkling to catch up on, so we can excuse some of his exasperating exuberance.

“Of course I do!” This is did not have the same sort of energy that one might associate with agreeing that a person loved the other, but there was a lot about them that were not quite so traditional. Although he was no longer in arms’ reach, she still had a few swats she still wanted to bring into being. “But that does not mean you are not the most wicked, selfish and arrogant man I have ever had the fortune of knowing!”

“Oh please,” said he, “I’m also annoying, a dreadful cowardly, absolutely beautiful, and a scourge on the heart of all those good and pure,” he paused for the sole reason that he did not want to distract from the dramatic flicking of his long blond hair, “What good is an attack on my person if you don’t even take the time to do it properly.”

“I don’t think one of those was an insult.” she said with an amused snort that she caught halfway though and tried to mask as an irritated huff, “Can’t you go even a moment without inflating your ego?”

“Certainly not,” Howl declared, accompanying this with a dramatic clasping at his chest, “I would wither away and die if I did!”

“I wonder if you’d be more helpful if you did.” was what Sophie declared as she shoved past him, pausing for just a moment to make sure he did not actually fall from her doing so. “Now, if you haven’t forgotten entirely, I’m supposed to take Morgan to visit his cousin, so if you are quite done, I’d rather not be late.” 

With this said, she left him looking intentionally wistful and dramatic on the balcony, experiencing the repercussions of actions that he did not consider deserving of any such repercussions. When he had dragged out the melodrama of the moment to its end, he returned inside and proceeded to busy himself with absolutely everything except from what he was expected to do.

Later that night, when he eventually grew weary enough to retreat to bed, not the couch he had napped on previously, this seemed to be a task that was harder than it should be. He had not even changed from his day clothes - and not for the first time not bothered to remove his boots either - but flopped himself down onto the bed, only to find himself on the floor. He repeated this, only to once again be met with a kick from his presumably sleeping wife, landing him on the floor again. 

With a huff, he dragged himself up to his feet, smoothed his clothes in a way that tried to reclaim what little dignity he had, and strode back out of the bedroom. Howl huffed a second time as he passed the fire demon that only looked at him with mild interest. The third and final huff came as he flung himself through the door and into the strange but personally familiar black mist on the other side. 

The wizard stretched his back luxuriously, blinking the sleep from his eyes with a fluttering of his long eyelashes. He wasn’t quite sure what had woken him, the fog of sleep still heavy in his mind, dream and reality having not yet fully differentiated each other. The ceiling above him was oddly nondescript, none of the decorated woods of his own room, and very briefly he wandered where he was.

“What the hell are you doing here, Howell?”

Oh. He was back in Wales. That’s right, Sophie was more irritated with him than usual so he had snuck into his sisters house. That sounds about right. He was kicked out of bed, figuratively and literally, and so he had stamped off right back to his own world. 

“You’re lucky I was the one to find you here, Gareth is even less happy with you than usual and he has to be up soon,” Megan had continued, quite validly chastising him, “If he saw that you managed to sneak in, and sneak in dressed like that,” She did not finish her threat, but her silence was explanation enough.

“This is one of my favourite shirts.” he returned, one hand sleepily playing with the ludicrous amount of ruffles on his shirt. In his moment of melodrama when he threw himself out the door, he had not thought to change to something more locationally and time period appropriate. A slight tilt of his head to look at his sister properly made it clear that he hadn’t even put a mask over his jewellery. 

Evidently it did not matter that it was his favourite shirt, as before he had the chance to even wash his face, his sister was so cruelly - and validly - shoving him out into the street.

With a sigh, and a quick glance about to make sure nobody would see, the frills of his shirt was replaced with a slightly worse for wear Welsh Rugby jersey, his simple yet expensive black trousers for a simple pair of blue skinny jeans, and even his needlessly extravagant boots were replaced with simple grey walking boots. It was so dreadfully mundane, but he knew how to get by. In theory he could return home, but he wanted to make his absence known and so he stubbornly refused to return until he killed a good few hours there, roaming the old tramping ground and all those similar such phrases. 

He needed a coffee before anything else, and thankfully from what he could remember, there was a gas station within walking distance that would have a cheap coffee machine that would do, then he’d think about how to fill the time before he was ready to go home, hopefully not going home to meet the wrath of a witch. With a huff, because he had not gotten all the huffs out the night before, he began his walk to try and obtain a cheap service station coffee, not even thinking to check if he had any money from there on him. He presumed that after his not so harrowing experiences of his own creation, the world owed him a little kindness to make up for it.


End file.
